


Red, Yellow and Green

by Oxytreza



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dom!Victor Nikiforov, Dom/sub, Facial, Handcuffs, Kink Exploration, M/M, Safe Sane and Consensual, YOI Shit Bang 2017, YOIShitBang2017, baby sub!katsuki yuuri, face fucking, kink negociation, probably a overuse of italics sorry not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 06:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11961639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oxytreza/pseuds/Oxytreza
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki might be what you could call a naive person, but he’s far from innocent.Even before the first time Victor took him to bed, or should we say that one night, after that exhilarating free skate at the cup of China, where Yuuri woke up in the cradle of Victor’s arm and he pressed back against the Russian skater, slotting the curve of his ass against his hips, until Victor had woken up with a surprised, but pleased, mumble and things took a turn that punched Yuuri’s V-card right off ; even before that, Yuuri Katsuki wasn’t innocent by the definition of anyone.





	Red, Yellow and Green

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Here I come with a new fic, written for the YOI Shit Bang! Thank you for the awesome people who pulled the event together! Check out all the other amazing artists and writer's works in the collection!
> 
> It's been a while since I wanted to write a fic with a long discussion scene about BDSM and boundaries, and Victor and Yuuri seemed to be exactly the couple I needed for that. (You can pry sub!Yuuri from my cold, dead hands)
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Thanks to my betas Josie and Beejay!

Yuuri Katsuki might be what you could call a naive person, but he’s far from innocent. 

Even before the first time Victor took him to bed, or should we say that one night, after that exhilarating free skate at the cup of China, where Yuuri woke up in the cradle of Victor’s arm and he pressed back against the Russian skater, slotting the curve of his ass against his hips, until Victor had woken up with a surprised, but pleased, mumble and things took a turn that punched Yuuri’s V-card right off ; even before that, Yuuri Katsuki wasn’t innocent by the definition of anyone. 

As for proof, those long lonely teenage nights where his hands learnt the planes of his body, how and where he liked to be touched, taught himself how to open up, how to arch the perfect angle, how to muffle himself in the pillows. (With Victor on his mind, always Victor, his hands, his mouth and his cock, and Yuuri sometimes thinks about how lucky he is to be able to brag that he lost his virginity to the very man he kept dreaming about for half of his life.)

So while Yuuri can sometimes be a little naive, he’s definitely not innocent, and moreso, he’s not  _ stupid _ . He knows, he’s very aware how exactly Victor feels about their sex life and how he’d like to step up things a little. 

Not to say their sex life is lacking. Their sex life is  _ fantastic _ . From that emotional but  _ hot _ first night in China to the wild night just yesterday in Victor’s bed — No, their bed, Yuuri has to remind himself every time, their bed, their couch, their bathtub, even if it used to be Victor’s flat, now that he moved in shortly after the GPF where he scored silver, it’s their flat — not a second of their sex life had been disappointing.  Victor had been nothing but patient and understanding, slow and gentle at first before gearing up into something more passionate with time, showing Yuuri the true extent of how deep his want for the brunet actually ran, ever since that fateful night nearly two years ago at the GPF banquet. Something that never fails to make Yuuri’s breath catch in his throat. He’s still not quite over the fact  _ he’s _ , among every other person on the planet, able to turn Victor into a gasping mess lying under him, hands greedy on his waist and hips punching up viciously into Yuuri until the Japanese man can feel his eyes cross.

They are, for a lack of a better word,  _ active _ . There’s not a single horizontal surface in their flat that they didn’t fuck on, or a vertical one for that matter. It’s like once the point of no return had been reached with that first kiss on live television, their bodies had tried to make up for lost time, which while was only one year for Victor, would be nearly ten years for Yuuri. (Victor actually had to put a slow down sometimes on things while the competition was still running, prying a insatiable Yuuri off him with a chuckle and a choked « We can’t, Yuuri, you’re skating tomorrow. », only to have his lap full of a whining, writhing brunet and desperate « Please, please,  _ please _ , Victor. » breathed against his jaw. On those nights, Victor had to reach into his best sexual creativity to satisfy his demanding lover while not involving actual penetration.) 

Their sexual bond runs as deep as the emotional one they share, and there’s nothing that could rise a complaint in Yuuri’s mind. He also knows Victor isn’t dissatisfied with what they have, on the contrary, he knows how Victor is  _ shook _ from the sexual aspect of their couple. The sliver haired man confessed one night how sex never was so  _ good _ , so  _ fulfilling _ before Yuuri waltzed inside his life and his heart. A lot of things weren’t anyway, for Victor, before Yuuri came along.

He just happen to knows because Victor actually told him. 

 

« What do you know of BDSM, Yuuri? » The question came one night, the both of them nestled on the couch, TV playing a Russian soap opera that Yuuri could only mildly concentrate on, given the way Victor was nuzzling his neck and teasing the hem of his shirt with feather light fingers. It took a full handful of seconds for Yuuri to process what his fiancé just asked, and he had to draw back from the affection that was being showered on his skin so he could look into Victor’s eyes. « Not much. Sadists and Masochists, I think? Also bondage. Why? »

The way Victor looked up at him from the corner of his eye, refusing to part his mouth too far from the warm skin of Yuuri’s neck, was enough to give the brunet his answer. He didn’t wait for Victor to actually voice it: « You’re into it? »

Yuuri wasn’t exactly shocked, a little baffled, maybe. Curious above all, he cranes his neck to try and face Victor, who finally lift his face up, looking at Yuuri in the eyes. 

« Only if you are willing to try, my Yuuri. I wouldn’t mind if you aren’t. »

Yuuri blinked. He could feel his cheeks heat up a little as he cleared his throat and asked: « What, huh. What interests you most? » The question was awkwardly formulated but it wouldn’t be the first time Victor understood him anyway, and it wouldn’t be the last. He hummed, the corner of his mouth upturned in a soft, easy smile and fingers coming up to slide through the hair on Yuuri’s nape.

« Well, while I’m not much of a sadist, I am definitively more on the dominating side. » Victor’s eyes are warm while he says this, but Yuuri can’t quite bring himself to look straight at him as he gives his next inquiry: « And you want… » he drifted off, hands fidgeting in his laps. « You want to, er, dom me? Is that what they say? »

Victor chuckled, warm fingers squeezing a little on Yuuri’s neck in a reassuring manner. « You can say that. But more than being in control, it’s about… Ah, how do I say this… »

Yuuri stared as Victor’s gaze slid on the side, seemingly looking for his next choice of words. It’s mesmerizing to see Victor stalling for words, to see the usual confident and composed man stutters and fidget. He finally looked back to Yuuri, with eyes filled with only what could be described as adoration. « Let me take care of you? »

Yuuri couldn’t help but feel his heart warm and his cheeks flush. Victor  _ does _ take care of him, in more ways than one, but the way his voice dips and takes on a purring quality, he understands there’s more to the statement than the usual pampering the ashen blond bestows upon him. He smiled faintly, fingers looping around Victor’s, who’s quick to add: « But, darling, if it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to. I thought I’d mention it because it is something I enjoy, and that I’d like to try with you, but you know I’m more than happy with what we have. » 

Yuuri knows. There’s a lot of things his anxiety keeps him from being sure of, but the way Victor feels about him isn’t one of them, not anymore. He nodded and leaned up, pressing a kiss against the corner of Victor’s mouth. « I need time to think about it, alright? »

Victor grinned, and that grin was so full of promise Yuuri felt a shudder rip through him. « All the time you want, love. »

 

It’s not that they’re entirely vanilla and that BDSM would be a huge step into kinky kingdom. Neck ties had been tied on other things than necks, ass had been playfully spanked, and some cute, although somewhat tame roleplays took place a couple times. While Yuuri doesn’t consider himself the kinkiest person, he definitively enjoys some spice in bed, so the whole idea that Victor offered isn’t exactly  _ scary _ , it’s more that it feels like a big step to take forward. The unknown of it is also a little intimidating. 

Yuuri thinks of dungeons, tight latex and whips, because his vision of BDSM is most likely skewed by TV shows and general stereotyped medias (He remembers the time they passed an aisle of dvds where Fifty Shades of Grey was proudly displayed, and well, Yuuri guesses he shouldn’t read or watch that particular one for reference, if the utterly disgusted face Victor made is anything to go by.), but the way Victor briefly presented the idea makes him think there’s more to the community than most people, himself included, think of it. 

He’s also worried he won’t like what Victor has in mind for him, and the idea of disappointing his fiancé is more aggravating than anything else, even if he knows, in the back of his mind, how Victor would  _ never _ resent him for such a thing. From day one, his more experienced Russian lover had been encouraging him to voice what he wants or doesn’t want in bed, and never once has he been unhappy with what Yuuri had to offer back, or not to.

Still, it’s part of who Victor is, and Yuuri wants to love every single aspect of him, from his most pleasing qualities to the little infuriating things, like the way he always forget to turn the bottle of shampoo upside down when it’s nearly finished or how anal (ah) he is about folding laundry, and will always redo everything behind Yuuri anyway. So Yuuri  _ wants _ to like this part of Victor too, wants to please him, wants to be good to him…

Yuuri thinks of the little things that make a little more sense now that he’s been given that particular piece of information. The way Victor looks at him, like lightning struck him  for a couple of seconds, when Yuuri lets himself fall open in front of him, legs spread and arms up above his head, what flickers in those electric blue eyes when he arches off the mattress and murmurs « Take me, Vitya,  _ take me _ , I’m all yours, yours, yours. ». The way sometimes, when things are really hot and heavy, Victor cups the back of his neck, his other hand tight on Yuuri’s hip to keep him up, and  _ fucks _ him, hard enough the whole bed shakes and skitters back and forth on the hardwood floor, panting breath harsh against the back of Yuuri’s skull and tips of silver bangs grazing his shoulder, how Victor  _ growls _ when Yuuri’s feeling submissive and pliant, ready and willing to be used. 

And, oh. 

Oh. 

Yuuri bites his lip as the realization dawns on him one evening, as he’s loading the dishwasher and Victor is taking a shower. He immediately needs a glass of wine, gulping it down like it would ease the way he felt the entire back of his neck flush and heat up. Alright, so the idea is pleasant, at least in theory. Yuuri’s already halfway there anyway, with the way he shivers every time Victor calls him « good boy » in bed, with how turned on he gets when Victor manhandles him, how  _ hard he comes when Victor asks him to, no, orders him, Jesus- _

Yuuri drinks a second glass of wine, a little more frenetically. He was stupid for not noticing earlier… No, not stupid. Naive.

Victor gets out of the shower, Makkachin on his heels, right as Yuuri is about to pour a third glass, and the Russian skater clicks his tongue and pulls the bottle out of Yuuri’s hand, they have practice tomorrow after all. Yuuri lets him, staring at him and the way his wet hair falls into his face, and when Victor asks if something’s wrong, he just shakes his head and burrows his face on the side of his fiancé’s neck. 

He fucks Victor that night, because he’s not quite ready to give in, and he knows that if Victor takes him apart  _ just so _ , he’ll start begging for him to do… whatever kinky things BDSM people do. 

He can tell Victor knows something is up, but he doesn’t complain as Yuuri makes him arch into him and breathe his name.

 

« What would that entail, exactly? » Yuuri asks as they’re leaning against the railing of the ice rink, a wildly inappropriate place to have a kink negotiation discussion but he feels confident here, so that’s why he leaned against Victor’s side, who’s taking a break as well, and breathed lowly his inquiry against the fabric of Victor’s grey shirt. And to be honest, it weirdly suits them, discussing sex matters while standing on the ice, skates tight around their ankles.

Victor stares at him for a full five seconds before his eyes light up in understanding, and then darken in what Yuuri knows is not quite arousal, but the state that precedes it. « Really, kitten?  _ Here? _ » He chuckles, and oh that’s not  _ fair _ , he’s using  _ that _ petname, the one Yuuri never really got over how much it turns him on, and  _ that _ voice, the one that sounds dipped in honey and he always uses it when he wants to get Yuuri riled up and bothered. It works, it always does. Yuuri isn’t meeting his eyes though, firmly keeping his gaze on Yuri, who’s practicing a particularly grueling step sequence on the other end of the rink. Yuuri could swear the teenager is shooting them dirty looks, as if he knew exactly what was going on between them. 

He doesn’t answer Victor either, pressing his lips together and fingers tight on the railing next to him. Victor doesn’t push, and lowers his voice a tad more to answer (devoid of sensuality this time thank god, he’s just being discrete for the sake of their intimacy.)

« There’s no real rules, sweetheart. It’s not like there’s a list- Well, actually there is, I have a list of things I like, and the things I don’t. We can run that by together later. But we don’t have to try everything at once, we can just… slowly go along and see what you like best, what limits are you willing to push, and which ones you don’t want to cross. »

Pushing limits, Yuuri knows how to. It’s familiar, it’s what he does on a daily basis as a professional figure skater. It’s solely a long string of limits he’s supposed to push back, to surpass. Except usually it results in a medal and not, well… What could very possibly be a mind-blowing orgasm. Victor is still talking, and Yuuri tilts his head up to bring his attention back on his lover. « The only things that are mandatory, if you will, is setting up a safeword, setting rules together, communication is key, of course, as in everything else, and things like, mmh. Aftercare and such. » 

The word has Yuuri frowning. « Aftercare? Is it going to be that rough? »

« Only if you want it to be, love. » comes the simple but warm answer, accompanied by twinkling blue eyes, and Yuuri weighs it. He’s gradually coming to understand he’s the one who sets the pace here, even though he’ll be the one submitting. « I don’t know. » He truthfully answers, turning so his back is fully aimed at the rest of the rink, and the people gliding along the ice within. Victor is still reclining against the board, looking as relaxed as if he wasn’t talking about sex with his fiancé. « What happens in aftercare? » he asks next, bringing his water bottle to his mouth mostly to keep his hand occupied. Next to him, Victor hums. « Depends on everyone, but for you, I’d say some cuddling, maybe with a blanket, and of course some food and water. Aftercare is mostly important because of the mindset the sub can sometimes reach while playing a scene. »

That’s a lot of words Yuuri isn’t familiar with. He settles on the one that confuses him most. « Mindset? »

« Subspace. » Victor simply says, but he tilts his head at Yuuri, lips stretching in a smile that looks like a promise. « It can be very good, if done right. But, ah, don’t worry about that. It’s somewhat of an advanced stage. What matters is that you know I’m supposed to make sure you’re alright at the end of each scene, and that you know it was, well. A scene. The choice of word isn’t innocent. » His smile turns loving, and he caresses the side of Yuuri’s face with the back of his hand, and Yuuri can definitively  _ feel _ the angry look Yuri is shooting at them now. Yuuri smiles back though, and even takes the time to nuzzle Victor’s hand (screw Yuri). « I trust you anyway. » he says and he doesn’t miss the way Victor’s chest hitches with the breath he takes in. He doesn’t comment on it, choosing instead to ask something else that has been playing on his mind. « What if I don’t… What if I don’t enjoy it? » he fidgets a little, eyes darting to Victor’s collar. Oh, there’s a lovebite there, goddamn-

« Then we stop, babe, no question asked. Yuuri, I might have been the one who asked this, but I want it to feel good for the both of us. As a dom, » his voice lowered even more at that, « what really gets me going is knowing my sub is being pampered, taking care of, given what they want, what they need,  _ absolutely dotted on _ . That’s what I want. If you’re not having fun, and not enjoying yourself, then I don’t wanna do it. » His knuckles lingers some more on Yuuri’s cheek before they retract, but Victor quickly leans down to press a kiss to his mouth. « Okay? »

Yuuri can’t help but smile. « Okay. »

« Anything else? We should go back to practice soon, before Yakov comes back from his phone call and starts yelling at you again for not nailing the quad flip every single time. » Victor teases, and Yuuri groans. « Don’t remind me. » He’s silent for a couple seconds, replaying their conversation in his mind. « You mentioned safewords. Like… Banana? Something like that? » he asks finally, looking up at Victor again.

Victor laughs, a deep rumble that sounds anything but mocking, more like pleased.

« Yes, could be, but the easiest ones would be the tricolor system. »

« The tricolor system? » repeats Yuuri, eyes scanning the benches where skaters sit and get ups on regular intervals (Here’s Mila, and she waves at him, so he waves back, feeling Victor doing the same next to him to greet the young woman.)

« Red for all stop, yellow for a break or to slow down and green… »

« Green? »

Victor’s eyes are dark and smoldering as they set on Yuuri’s face, who tries really hard not to bite his lip, if only because he knows that move always drives the Russian wild, and they don’t need a repeat of the time Georgi walked in on them heavily making out against the wall of the bathroom.

« Green is for keep going. » he purrs, and Yuuri feels his dexterous fingers curve around the slope of his waist. He shudders, lips parting. It’s insane, their sex drive. Yuuri might have a better stamina than Victor, but the Russian man gives back as much with an insatiable want,  _ need _ , to keep his hands non-stop on his fiancé. If they could, they probably would stay in all day, fucking like rabbits. 

Thank god, Yuri is keeping guard, and he’s instantly in their space, shouting how it’s been hours since they started slacking off, and they are left with no choice than pull away from each other, a little reluctantly, and later on, once they’re back onto the middle of the ice, Yuuri skates a curve to bring him close to Victor so he can quickly whisper : « I need a little more time, but I think I like the idea. » And Victor is already skating away, but he’s grinning, eyes never leaving Yuuri’s face.  

 

It takes a couple weeks before the mood is right. They did share sexual intimacy, several times, over the course of those couple weeks, but either the time didn’t felt right or Yuuri didn’t feel ready to broach the subject. Victor, tender, caring, patient Victor, didn’t push the matter either, even since their discussion at the rink, letting Yuuri move at his own pace. (Something he would respect in their private life, but a lot less so in his coaching. No time for trying to cling to your comfort zone when you’re trying to be a gold medalist, and Victor is sure trying to make one out of Yuuri, even if that means spitting teeth in the process. But it’s exactly what Yuuri needs when he’s out on the ice, the dichotomy of Victor’s methods between the rink and their home fulfilling both his want to win and his need to move forward by himself.)

But tonight, the apartment is warm, spring is near, dinner was good, Makkachin sleeps by the entry doorway and they both sit on the couch, Yuuri cuddling into Victor’s side as an old black and white Hollywood movie plays on the TV. Neither of them are truly watching though, walking through together some spots in Yuuri’s routine for next season. Victor had been practicing his own under Yakov’s eye, but today was a Victor coaching day, and the Russian man had spent a good portion of the afternoon prying apart Yuuri’s flaws in his figures. Needless to say, Yuuri’s exhausted, but the good kind, when his muscle aches in satisfaction of a day full of progress, Victor’s touch is praising and his eyes adoring, proud of his student and fiancé. Finally, there’s a silence, and Victor leans his cheek against Yuuri’s hair, humming happily. Yuuri feels comfortable, half sprawled on the other man and tucked under a blanket, and their sides where they are touching are warm, Victor’s fingers light on the nape of Yuuri’s neck in mindless pattern as his other hand rests relaxed on the tv remote on the sofa’s arm, from where he laid it back down after settling on the channel currently playing. One of Yuuri’s legs is already laying across Victor’s lap, so it’s just a matter of shifting before he’s fully sitting across Victor’s knees, arms coming round his neck and kissing him.

Immediately, Victor’s hand slides to his hips, present but undemanding (for now) and he kisses back, nuzzling his nose against Yuuri’s cheek whenever they part for air. 

It begins slow, gentle, like it often does, before Yuuri’s jaw opens and his tongue laps at the seam of Victor’s lips. Victor makes a sound in the back of his throat and he obliges, hands coming up flat on Yuuri’s back to press him further into his chest. 

« Baby… » he purrs against Yuuri’s lips, before kissing him again, hard, full of tongue and teeth and Yuuri shudders, moans softly both at the term of endearment and the kiss. The blanket slips from his shoulder, and on the TV, a starlet with dark lips and darker lashes cries because of a man. None of them care anymore, if they even cared in the first place. Yuuri’s knees spread, allowing their hips to slot closer, and Victor arches a little into him, roll his half hard dick into Yuuri’s, pulling a gasp from him. Victor’s hands are both on his ass now, tugging him even closer and Yuuri makes a delighted sound in the skin of Victor’s neck. They kiss again, both of Yuuri’s hands framing Victor’s face, as the Russian’s own hands move back to his hips, fingers splayed wide on the side of his ass and thumb hooked on the narrow bone in such a tender gesture the Japanese skater feels himself shake. Yuuri feels safe and loved when he’s between Victor’s arms, and above everything else, he’s  _ happy _ .

That’s when the mood hits just right, and Yuuri pulls back from their making out, just enough so his lips graze Victor’s when he says: « I want to try. I want you to do anything you want to me tonight. »

Victor stares at him, eyes wide, cheeks still flushed from their kissing, for a longer time than Yuuri expected. He can feel Victor’s fingers tightening on his hips, before he draws in a shaky breath, and Yuuri realizes he’s trying to reign himself in, holy shit. 

« Are you sure, love? » he finally asks, eyes bright and so, so blue fixed on Yuuri’s warm brown.

« I’m sure. I’m ready. We talked about it already, didn’t we? I trust you. I know you won’t give me more than I’m asking for. »

Victor swallows, and Yuuri can’t help the jab of pride he feels at being able to have this effect Victor fucking Nikiforov. His cheeks feel hot, both from the previous kissing and for what they’re about to do.

« Do you remember the safewords? » he asks, eyes searching, but Yuuri knows his face reflects nothing but willingness. He wants. For Victor, for himself, for them. He does. 

« I do. Red, yellow and green, right? I told you, I’m ready. I want to try. I promise I’ll tell you if we do something I don’t like. »

There’s a few more seconds of silence, before Victor opens his mouth and god, his voice is already so wrecked on desire that Yuuri shivers under his hands, is tempted to arch his back and give himself right there and then to Victor, BDSM plans be damned. That’s just not  _ fair _ how his lover can destroy him with just a couple words.

« I won’t go all out tonight though, just some things to test out the waters, all right? » Victor rasps, hair already a mess from the way Yuuri was running his hands through it while making out. Yuuri nods, arousal climbing his spine at top speed. They’re doing it, they’re really doing it, and he finds himself more excited for it than he thought he would. 

Victor nudges him, indicating they should stand, so Yuuri does so, knees wobbling a little and catching the pooled blanket right before it falls to the ground, leaving it on the cushion of the sofa while Victor turns the TV off. He guides Yuuri toward their bedroom, walking backward, Yuuri’s hands tight in his, eyes locked with intent. There’s a faint light of trepidation in those ice blue eyes, and Yuuri smiles, letting go of Victor hands once they reach the bedroom and the Russian turning toward the bed, kneeling in front of it. « Sit on the bed, babe. » He says, voice muffled from where he’s kneeling. There’s an array of boxes under their bed, Yuuri knows, mostly for storage of old skating costumes. He climbs on the mattress, shuffling until he’s sitting cross legged in the middle of it. Victor comes back up then, a black square box clutched in his hand. He puts it in front of Yuuri, who eyes it but doesn’t open it yet, before sitting behind Yuuri, arms looping around his waist and legs framing his fiancé’s. 

« Open it. » he murmurs, his breath sending small puff of warm air on the nape of Yuuri’s neck. His lips press there then, and the Japanese man shudders, lifting his hands to take off the lid of the box, displaying its content. He can feel his heartbeat picks up, and he knows Victor can feel it, pressed as he is against him. Victor’s voice is low against Yuuri’s skin for his next question, and this alone seems to warm the air of the room.

« Is there things in there that catch your attention, dove? » 

There is. The rope does first, silky and blood red, curled on itself and knotted to keep together. It looks long, long enough to do a full body harness on Yuuri. He distantly knows at least about Shibari, he’s Japanese after all, and he should have guessed Victor would be into it. It’s a beautiful form of art, after all, and Victor loves everything that is beautiful. Yuuri’s fingers touch the weaved nylon before he curls his hand around the heavy knot in the middle of the rope, lifting it from the box. Victor makes a pleased sound. « I was hoping you’d be interested in that. I think you’d look beautiful all dressed up in rope. » Yuuri hums, nodding and setting the rope on the bed next to the box. « You want to try it? » comes Victor’s voice, eager to list Yuuri’s interests. Yuuri takes the time to think about it. 

« I do. » he finally answers, smiling at the way Victor’s fingers tighten around his mid-section. There’s no dildos or more regular sex toys in there, Yuuri notes, but that’s probably because they all are in the other box, the one that sits in the bedside table, and he’s more than familiar with its content. There is , though, a prostate massager resting in a corner, sleek, curvy and black. Victor hums when Yuuri pulls it out of the box. « A bit tricky to use. Very overwhelming, too. But I know you like being oversensitive and overworked sometimes, would you like to try full-on prostate stimulation? » Victor asks, and his voice takes on that bubbly, cheery edge he gets when he’s playfully excited and happy. Yuuri chuckles and set the toy on the other side of the boy on the comforter, « You already do a pretty good job of that yourself. » he breathes and he knows, by the sound Victor makes, that they’re both thinking of the time Victor held him down, knees pushed back to his chest, and for nearly ten minutes, grind hard in tight little circles of his hips into Yuuri’s sweet spot, until the Japanese skater was reduced to a flailing, screaming overstimulated mess, but still begging for  _ more _ . (Which Victor was happy to give him afterward. It had been a very, very good night.)

He digs again in the box, pulling on the next item that caught his eye, a pair of sturdy looking cuffs. Not the usual kind Yuuri knows about, circles of metal that looks like they would dig into his skin and be painful, but large rectangle of leather that curve around the wrist like a steady hand, and secured with a thinner strap of leather that runs around the larger one, ending with a golden buckle. There’s also a golden D-ring on each one, sitting close to the place the strap would buckle on itself to fasten the cuff around the wrist. The inside is padded with short and soft faux fur, red of the same shade as the rope. The leather is shining softly in the golden light of the bedroom, and they feel heavy in Yuuri’s hand, weighted with unspoken promises. He feels Victor leans his chin on his shoulder, but says nothing. Yuuri let his fingers run on the leather, imagining wrapped and tight around his wrist. This isn’t new territory for him, but those surely looks like they’d feel less painful digging into his skin than silk neck ties. It’s the image that changes a little, the dark items whispering about kinky nights, putting a different kind of brand than the playful « Let me tie you up with that discarded tie tonight. ». 

He likes being tied up, though, and he likes tying Victor up. « Would you let me use those on you sometimes? » he murmurs, turning the object around in his hand to inspect the soft red inside. Victor shifts behind him, and, yep, he’s still half hard, and he makes a pleased sound. « Why not. I never got restrained by real cuffs before but I certainly enjoy the view when you tie me up to the headboard, so that’s definitely something I’d be willing to try with you. » He purrs, and Yuuri smiles, setting the cuffs next to the rope. 

There’s a ball gag then, the straps of the same leather as the cuff, and the ball, rubbery and bright red, looks like a shiny cherry. Yuuri looks at it without touching it, finds it a little aggressive looking. 

« Ah, that… » Victor reaches out, pick up the ball gag by the buckle, and sets it next to the prostate massager. « I’m not particularly fond of it. I own one in case someone was really into it, » (the implication that Victor had lovers, severals lovers, subs walking in and out of his bedroom, makes a tiny flame of jealousy and possessiveness flare in Yuuri’s belly, but he ignores it. The way Victor used past tense comfort him. _ No one else anymore. Only you _ .) « But truth is, I always have been a fan of the noises I can pull from people, and above everything else, I’m a  _ huge fan _ of the noises I can pull out of  _ you _ , darling babe, so I don’t want to muffle them. » 

He pauses, his hand returning to Yuuri’s midsection. « Thought, If one day you want to try it, we can. I’m open to everything you’d like to try, love. » 

« You said there was things you didn’t like. » Yuuri observes, craning his neck to be able to get a peak of his fiancé, a hard feat from his vantage point. He can still make out the bright turquoise eyes, though. 

« There is. Some are hard limits that I really can’t do, and some are things we can talk about it cause I might be willing to try it if it’s you, Yuuri. »

Yuuri ponders this, fingers fiddling with the edges of the box. « I’d like to see that list, one day? »

« Of course doll, that’s part of the whole package. » He can feel Victor’s grin against his neck as his fiancé rubs his face against him, nearly dislodging his shirt from his shoulder. Yuuri chuckles, reporting his attention to the box, and his breath catches a little. 

There is other objects than this one, of course, some Yuuri can’t even begin to fathom what is the use for them.

But the collar is now in full sight, all black leather and gold O-ring nestled at the front, has something to it that keep Yuuri from looking away. Victor stilled behind him, sensing a shift of atmosphere, and Yuuri can feel it, too, a pleasing crawling sensation up his arms and the back of his neck. 

He looks at it still, finger tracing the circle of the ring, and just imagining the weight of it around his neck…

He gulps, and there’s Victor grin again, sharp and a little bit giddy, against his neck. 

« Do you want to try it on? » comes Victor’s voice, that damned honeyed voice, and his hands are light and heavy at the same time on Yuuri’s middle, sliding from his waist to his hips.

He wants. 

He really wants. 

He nods, and the warmth of Victor leaves his back, as pale hands digs into the box and comes back up with the item, palm facing up and fingers open, as if reverently offering it to the air of the bedroom. The collar curve around the shape of Victor’s hand in what Yuuri can only call a sinful U-shape, tips weighting down toward the bed. His eyes follow the movement when Victor retract his hand, and then slide closed when he feels the whisper of leather around his neck. 

Victor fastens it gently, before sliding two fingers between the collar and Yuuri’s skin. « Not too tight? » He murmurs, and his voice is so soft, so full of wonder Yuuri wants to whine. What playful, easy going air had started to surround them as they were digging through the box had been smashed to bits in a matter of seconds, rushing now with arousal and need. Yuuri can’t even properly answers the question, juste shakes his head, hands clutched in fists on his knees. The collar is tight but not chokingly so, just the perfect right amount of pressure that he can  _ feel _ it against his throat when he swallows, and it’s starting to make him dizzy for other reason than a lack of air.

Victor grabs his shoulders then, and tugs him sideway. « Look at you, baby. » He breathes, still sounding like he just saw an angel. Yuuri shuffles on his knees, turning so he can face the mirror that rests next to the bed. He gulps again when he sees their reflection.

Oh man. 

Victor moans. Straight up  _ moans _ . 

« Oh God, Yuuri… » he breathes, his whole face apparent above Yuuri’s shoulder and his eyes are wide, though one of them is obscured by silver bangs, his bottom lip bitten-red, his cheeks flushed. And honestly? Yuuri’s tempted to tell him to take him as his sub right here right now, if that means putting Victor Nikiforov in such a state so easily. 

Yuuri loves it. 

Especially when Victor starts kissing up and down his neck, careful moving over the collar whenever he crosses its path. « Oh my  _ love _ , you look so stunning in it? Oh сладкий, darling, sweetheart, I can’t believe… You look like you were made for wearing it, made for this, made for me… » 

Yuuri  _ so loves it _ .

He presses back into Victor with a moan, head tilting back against his shoulder and on the side, offering the column of his neck for more kisses and more praises, lavished on his skin like he’s some kind of altar god. 

« You like it baby? Like how you look with that nice collar around your pretty throat? » Victor’s voice is warm and purring in his ear, and god, he always praise Yuuri in bed, but not like this, not so… coddling? controlling? Yuuri doesn’t know, isn’t able to put a word down to it, he just knows he wants to drown in it. He nods jerkily, eyes closed, and he can feels the breathy chuckle against the shell of his ear before he hears it. 

« If you like it, we can buy one just for you. That’s the one I kept close just in case, you deserve better, treasure. Ooh, or better yet, we can order a custom one, just for you, only for you. Would you like that, sugar? » He would. He does. He whimpers, because the idea shouldn’t send such a hot rush of arousal through him, but it does. He’s pondering whether he should answer that question right now or not, but Victor doesn’t seem to actually wait for an answer. Instead, he works his teeth on the shell of Yuuri’s ear (not fair,  _ not fair _ , he  _ knows _ those are such a weak spot for Yuuri.) and asks, voice low and rumbling in his chest where it’s pressing against Yuuri’s back : « Would you like to try the cuffs with it? »

Yuuri doesn’t even think about, doesn’t take the time to ponder his answer, he just nods again, so eagerly he can feel the collar jolts up and down on his neck. Victor laughs again, nowhere mocking and everywhere delighted, and he reaches around Yuuri once more, grabbing the cuffs from where they are lying on the bed. « Front or back? » he inquires next, but when Yuuri immediately answers « Back, please. », silver brows shot up toward his hairline, his face covered with a surprised expression. « Is… Is that no good? » Yuuri asks, fidgeting. Victor shakes his head. « It’s good, but beginners usually prefer having their wrists tied up in front of them, give them a little more control that way. »

« Oh, » murmurs Yuuri, and this time he thinks about it, mulling the implication over as he turns to face Victor better. « But- But I want to give you control over me. Did so for months in the rink, as your student, I… » He breathes. Victor is looking at him, eyes dark and bright at the same time, cuffs forgotten in his laps as he listen to his fiancé. « I want it here, too. I trust you with it. » Yuuri finishes, hands clasping together and pressed between his knees.

And oh, the way Victor’s entire face goes dark with pure, raw  _ want _ .

« This, my Yuuri, is exactly why I am the luckiest man in the world. » he purrs, leaning forward, and Yuuri accepts the kiss, gives it back with a small moan. They indulge themselves for a little while, tongues sliding together in a heated but lazy dance, and Yuuri can’t help but chase after Victor when the silver haired man pulls away. « Turns around, babe, please. » breathes Victor, and Yuuri complies, shuffling on his knees in a circle until his back is once more facing his lover. « Wrists up. » comes the next demand, no, order (Yuuri shivers, hard, at the thought) and Yuuri obeys, lifting his arm and pressing his wrist side to side behind him. He feels the soft fur of the padding rolling around his right wrist, before the whispers of the leather and a tightening sensation tells him the cuff is secured. « Not too tight? » Victor asks, lips pressing to his neck, right above the collar, for a hot, breath-taking second. Yuuri shakes his head, and soon his left wrist is encased in soft cool pressure as well. He hears the sound of the clip that links botch cuffs together, and sure enough, when he tries to pull his hands apart, they’re stopped in a jingle of metal. Once both cuffs are secured around his wrists, his arms comfortably angled backward, he catches Victor leaning forward around him again, hand digging at the bottom of the box and coming back u with a golden chain, ending on both sides with sturdy looking clips. Victor’s face is out of his vision, but the Russian man stops the chain in front of Yuuri for him to see. « Is this okay? » he asks gently, moving so Yuuri can finally see his face, eyes warm and open. Yuuri’s looking between them and the chain in front of him, and he swallows. « To tie me up? »

« Yes. »

« Like… Like a pet? » he gets out weakly, but he knows Victor isn’t mistaken on the tone of his voice. It’s shivering in arousal, despite his best efforts not to let the idea gets to his head, not to let the full body shudder wrack through him. He feels dirty and wonderful at the same time, it’s liberating like nothing else he ever experienced. Then again, a lot of things with Victor are this way, in and out of bed. He forces himself to look back at Victor, and the want is still so naked on his face that he gasps, arching a little. Victor studies him for a couple seconds in silence before answering, fingers light on the underside of Yuuri’s chin: « It could, if you want that. But right now I was thinking to use it to link the collar to the cuffs. What do you think? Good? »

A beat, and Yuuri nods. He can’t get his voice to work. 

« Good. » repeats Victor, hands moving. His index finger hooks into the o-ring of the collar, sliding it around Yuuri’s neck so it rests at the back of the brunet’s neck and there’s a clipping sounds, before Yuuri can feel the cool snake of the chain sliding down his back, brushing his wrists, ending with the other clip being secured on the chain linking both cuffs. 

He jumps a little when Victor presses the palm of his hand to the top knob of his spine, sliding under the chain that stands in the way, and its warmth and steadiness helps Yuuri relaxes under his touch. Then, the hand is gone, only to be replaced by an equally warm mouth, wet with tongue and sharp with teeth, Victor’s breath hot and panting against the skin. 

« F-Fuck, you look so good for me, Yuuri. » he sounds so  _ wrecked _ , so undone, and the praise in this tone of voice makes Yuuri moans so loud he surprises himself. Victor doesn’t swear a lot in daily life, apart for the rare muttered Russian curse, but his language can turn downright vulgar in bed, much to Yuuri’s dirty talk appreciation delight, something he struggled at first to accept he liked. He breathes in through his nose, spread his knees a little for better balance and put himself on display for his fiancé. 

He know he must be a sight, kneeling on the bed with his hands bound together in his back, clasping each wrist with his other hand, to avoid fidgeting too much with them. The chain is pulling just so on his neck, and if he tries to tilt his head forward, the leather of the collar presses on his throat, digs in his skin the right amount of pressure, enough to make him gasp at the sensation. The knowledge that he could just choke himself if Victor let him, that the Russian man has his safety and well being right in the palm of his hand, both metaphorically and figuratively, since his fingers are trailing up and down the golden chain, but that Victor  _ wouldn’t _ , wouldn’t ever let something happen to Yuuri, keep him out of harm’s way while still dipping him a little bit in danger, it’s a dizzying rush and Yuuri feels light headed. It’s also scary, but exhilarating, and he wonders if he’s going to faint.

« V-Victor… » he whimpers, ignoring himself what he’s asking for, but thank God Victor seems to do, because he leans in, crowds into Yuuri’s space and breathes against the shell of his ear: « Yes, my Yuuri, I’m right here. I got you. Tell me what you need. What you want. »

« I don’t… » it takes a couple tries, « I don’t know, nothing, I just… » He shifts, embarrassed to realize he started to rub his thighs together to get some kind of relief. He’s hard, he’s so very hard, leaking at the tip, he can feel it wet and rubbing against the material of his boxer, and he has no idea since when he’s in this state. He’s shaking, he wants to beg, so he does. 

« Please… »

« Please what, котёнок ? »

« I don’t  _ know _ , just… Please, please, Vitya… » the endearment slips through his lips, a special treat he knows Victor can’t resist, for Yuuri only uses it in special occasions.

Sure enough, he’s rewarded with a moan, and the fingers that were mere moments ago feathering along the chain curl around it and  _ pulling _ . 

Immediately the collar digs in the column of his neck, and his breath turns staccato, hardening under the strain of leather. Victor is nothing but gentle though, studying Yuuri with alert ears and eyes to find the smallest trace of discomfort. He’s more tugging than straight up jerking the chain in his grip, tantalizing Yuuri with the  _ possibilities _ . He sure wasn’t expecting to jump straight to breath-play, as tame as this is, on their first session, but here they are again, playing the game of surprise, and Yuuri is, as usual, winning. 

His other hand, the free one, settles on Yuuri’s hip, pushing his fingertips under the fabric of his shirt. His skin is so warm it’s nearly burning, and Victor hums, nuzzling at the back of Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri shudders, hips arching back the best he can to get Victor to touch him more. The silver haired man obliges lovingly, pushing his hand flat across Yuuri’s abdomen, shuffling closer, close enough that his knees are resting on each side of Yuuri’s folded legs, his naked feet nearly brushing Victor’s crotch. The phantom touch makes his already hard dick twitches in his pants, and he huffs a breath, tempted to just roll his hips into Yuuri’s ass and get them off like this. 

He doesn’t, though, and instead releases his hold on the chain, and listens to Yuuri’s breathing, gasping and loud in the otherwise quiet room. He didn’t cut enough air that the brunet would be that much out of breath, he’s just overwhelmed and  _ so _ turned on. 

« All good? » Victor against Yuuri’s cheek, and the Japanese man nods. His hands are shaking in their restrain and he arch his back further, for the sole purpose to drive Victor crazy, to look pretty and sexy for him in the way only his fiancé makes him feel. Given the strangled noise that comes from near his ear, he’s doing a good job of it. 

« Fuck, Yuuri… » the swear is rough, crumbling around the edges with what is clearly devastating arousal. He can feel the length of Victor’s chest pressing against his back, trapping Yuuri’s bound hands between them and the slender hand previously resting on Yuuri’s stomach retreats back to his hip, soon to be joined by its sibling on his other hip. They clutch hard, hard enough Yuuri knows there will be bruise, and he keens, because fuck, that’s his favorite spot to have the imprint of Victor’s fingers, tight around the bone in a reminder of how he had been fucked hard by behind the night before, on his elbows and knees, mouth wet and screaming in the pillows. 

« Oh  _ baby _ , oh my Yuuri, how I adore you… Every time I think I’ve reached the end of your perfection, you keep surprising me with more, as you always do. »

The praise makes Yuuri’s chest swell and his cock twitch. Its no secret he's voracious for Victor's praises, a fact the silver haired man never ceased to use to both their benefit in bed, but also on the rink. 

« Victor… » His throat is parched, and he has to gulp a couple time before raising his voice again, « Vitya, please… »

« What is it, sugar? » Victor purred, mouth teasing on the burning skin of Yuuri’s neck and fingers back to teasing at the chain in quick, light pulls that throws Yuuri struggling to get his breaths and his words out in the right order and not just a jumble of sounds. 

« P-please, I want…. »

« Anything baby. I'll give you anything. » Victor croons, hands and voice adoring. He’s so ready to give Yuuri exactly what he wants, and it breaks Yuuri. He nearly sobs, head throwing back against Victor’s shoulder as he moans.

« I want  _ everything _ " he finally whimpers, trying to arch his back and press his ass against Victor all at once, fingers tight on his own wrists. He feels destroyed in the best of ways, ready to be broken and put back together, to surrender himself in Victor’s capable and loving hands, to  _ trust him _ with everything he has, to place his safety and his well being, along his sexual satisfaction in Victor’s care. Five years ago he never thought he'd be into BDSM play, but here he is, thirsty for a thing he doesn’t know how to ask for, so he asks the way he knows Victor will understand. "Please  _ dominate _ me"

Victor goes suddenly very still, and Yuuri wishes he could see his face, for he never tires of the wide eyed look Victor gets when he manages to throw him off. 

But suddenly his world is tipping forward, dipping upside down and he finds himself face first in the sheet, Victor’s hands pulling his hips up, up, up and pushes on the back of his neck down, down, down. The position is familiar if not for the way his arms are twisted in his back. He bites back a shout, aroused beyond measure because of the manhandling he just got submitted to. He doesn’t have the time to say anything before the searing heat of Victor’s mouth is suddenly biting at his neck, not hard enough to really hurt but tight enough to  _ brand _ , and Yuuri can feel the ragged breathing of his fiancé on the wet patch of skin he leaves behind, can feel how his fingers are scrambling along his hips, stomach and legs, as if unable to decide where he wants to touch him the most, and, dear God,  _ yes _ , his hard cock against the cleft of his ass, hot and throbbing and so thick Yuuri’s mouth nearly waters at the very memory of it. 

He tries to say something, but nothing gets out as his mouth only falls open in ecstasy, eyes rolling back in his head when Victor drags the hard line of his erection against Yuuri’s ass. He’s pretty sure his underwear are good for the trash after that, soiled beyond salvation. He gasps at the same time Victor does, and the Russian’s man voice is scrambled, broken in places when he stutters : « C-Color, I need a color sweetheart, любимый, I don’t… Please give me a color, love. » 

« Green, » he chants without hesitation, « Green, green, green,  _ Victor, come on _ . »

"What do you want, Yuuri, love, tell me what you want, we haven’t..." There’s an audible gulping sound and a couple of hard breaths, Victor’s usual composure is nowhere to be seen and Yuuri is  _ so glad _ he’s the one who gets to smash it open like this. « I didn’t plan for this to go this far, we haven’t discussed boundaries yet, and I… » 

« It’s okay, » Yuuri moans. He turns his head the best he can so he can catch a glimpse of Victor, and boy, what a sight. Victor is a  _ mess _ , messed up hair falling into a pink face and feverish, dark eyes trained on Yuuri, mouth wet and hanging open around harsh pants. « I promise it’s okay, Victor, I trust you, I know you won’t do anything I’m not ready for, you won’t hurt me. I promise I will let you know if it’s getting too much. » He takes a deep breath, wriggles his ass against Victor’s crotch, and he can see how the silver haired man nearly buckles at the elbows. « I can handle whatever you want to do to me right now. » He exhales happily when Victor’s hips press forward, slow rocking motion pushing his hard-on against the place where Yuuri wants it the most. He rocks back, pulling a equally happy groan from Victor. Gathering himself, Yuuri tries to grasps at his eros persona, the one that sometimes makes him push Victor on the bed and fuck him hard or ride him until the Russian is  _ begging _ , but right now he can’t seems to center himself to find it, as overwhelmed he is, so he abandons trying to look confident and he just whines, writhing under his lover as he pleads, 

« Please, tie me up and  _ fuck me _ . »

There’s something bright and dark at the same time that passes through Victor’s clear eyes before he throws himself in a flurry of motion. Yuuri can feel the chain linking his collar to his cuffs being unhooked and he nearly whine in protest, biting the sound back in at the last second. The chain is dropped next to them, and next is the cuffs. He squirms, trying to escape Victor’s hands. « D-Don’t, no, don’t undo them, I want them- » 

« The position will put strain on your shoulders, » comes the rough reply, and Yuuri wants to cry at how wrecked Victor’s voice sounds, « You’re not quite ready for that yet. »

Yuuri keens again, looking over his shoulder at his fiancé. He’s looking back at him, face dark with lust and eyes shining with affection, even though it’s nearly masked by (Yuuri shudders) clear dominance.

« Plus, I’m going to fuck you on your back. » Victor furthers his point by flipping Yuuri on his back as the cuffs get unattached, while still tightly wrapped around Yuuri’s wrists. 

« But don’t worry, детка, I’ll tie you up just like you asked. After all, you begged so nicely. »

Oh God. Yuuri thought he was ready for Dom Victor. He thought he would enjoy on some level Victor’s kinks, maybe not full pledge to them the way his fiancé do, but nonetheless have some good fun in bed. Yuuri likes fun in bed. As it turns out, he’s actually  _ much much more turned on by Dom Victor that anticipated _ .

He  _ arches _ right off the bed, a loud moan tearing out of his throat, hands falling next to his head as he puts himself on display to his lover. The next word that escapes his mouth is totally by accident, so visceral he can’t help it: « S-sir, please… »

He bites his lip, eyes jumping to Victor’s face, hoping that wasn’t too forward. The name had been dancing on his tongue since they started playing, and he’s not stupid, he did his research, he  _ knows _ it’s a common title used among doms, and while he had been craving to use it on Victor, to show him the extent of his trust, to show how utterly Yuuri wants to put himself into Victor’s care, he’s not sure Victor would be of the same opinion. After all, some of it is a matter of taste, he’ve read.

The look plastered on the Russian’s face is enough answer, though. Victor lurches forward, crashing their lips together and actively trying to suck the entire amount of oxygen out of Yuuri’s lungs. He pulls back with Yuuri’s lower lip lightly pinched between his teeth, a move that gets Yuuri weak in the knees and the stomach. 

« Fuck, » he mutters against the Japanese man’s mouth, closing his eyes for a few seconds, clearly trying to grasp at his already thin composure. « The things you do to me, Yuuri, I… I’m afraid I won’t be able to slip in full on dom mode for you tonight. » he chuckles, rubbing their noses together. « You make me feel too much. Composure’s hard right now. » He adds, voice low and breathy, and no matter how long they’ve been together, Yuuri feels his heart beats against his ribcage for entirely others reasons that sexual arousal. He smiles, albeit shakily, and nudges Victor’s side with his knees. « It’s fine… I don’t think I can be a perfect sub right away either… »

Victor shakes his head. « That’s not necessary, Yuuri. I’m the experimented one here. Your role will get refined with time, but right now, you’re supposed to lay back, give in into your desires, and let me take care of you. Please let me take care of you? » He ends his statement with a hopeful question, and Yuuri nods. Granted Victor always takes care of him as much as he takes care of Victor, but he can feel the difference of meaning here, weighting Victor’s words. Yes, he can give in and let Victor do the work, let him discover and learn what he loves most. « Please take care of me. » he murmurs, throat dry, legs falling even more open. 

« Please do let me know if something is wrong, though. » Victor nods, pressing their cheeks together. « Although I’ll be careful, too. » he promises, and Yuuri feels safer than ever. 

There’s a silence, then, « So is Sir okay? »

Victor laughs, pulling back, and Yuuri already misses his warmth. 

« More than okay. I was going to introduce names and titles later one, but since my little милый is so eager… »

Yuuri swallows. « Names? »

The dark flicker is back in Victor eyes as he reaches for Yuuri’s wrist, pulling them up above his head. « We can discuss that later, kitten. » he simply answers, voice back to its seducing, dipped-in-honey quality. Yuuri has a fair idea what Victor means, and his cheeks heat up. The very notion burns, making him feel like he’s going to catch on fire, very much so like when he’s embarrassed, ashamed even, and he’s not sure he’s going to like it, but there’s a telling pull in his gut that also tells him to file away that train of thoughts for later, once he’s not being tied up to the headboard with the chain Victor discarded earlier, each end fastened to a cuff and passed through the bars of the bed, securely restraining him. It’s a simple set-up, one he might even call familiar (the ties, remember), but never the restrains felt the way they do now, so strong and secure around his wrist, just like when Victor wraps his large slender hands around his delicate wrists and pins him down. Yeah. Not the best setting to think with a cool head, thinks Yuuri, arching up again just because he can, just because he likes the way Victor looks at him when he does so. 

Once Victor is happy with his handiwork, he kneels back, settling between Yuuri’s open thighs and sliding his palm up the length of them. « You’re so gorgeous, Yuuri. You always are, but right now you’re just… »

He leans down, nose brushing on the sliver of skin that shows up between Yuuri’s sweatpants and shirt. « You’re stunning, just like when you skate. »

Yuuri takes a sharp intake of breath at that, and just like this, he’s back to being very aware of the erection he’s sporting, very hard and tenting his light sweats. Victor isn’t in much better shape, and while they shared a couple moments earlier where the fire had been quieted down, it’s back with raging force now, blazing in Victor’s eyes as he caresses up and down Yuuri’s clothed thighs. 

« I can’t wait to actually tie you up in bondage. Dress you up in ropes, leave you helpless and at my mercy… Ready for me to have you. »

« You already have me. » Yuuri gasps, unable to keep his mouth closed, and Victor’s eyes sparkle. 

« That I do. All mine. » he purrs, and Yuuri shivers in happiness and arousal. He can’t help the soft pleading whine in his voice when he speaks again: « Y-yours, all yours… Sir… Please… Fuck me? You promised you will… »

Victor’s smiles is close to a smirk, but Yuuri doesn’t miss the way he shudders. He leans forward, extends a hand, and Yuuri gasps one more time as Victor hooks a finger through the ring on the collar he’s still wearing and somehow managed to totally forget was here. 

« You want my cock so badly? » Victor purrs again, tugging slightly on the ring, and Yuuri arches his neck back, willingly submitting to the pull. His mouth falls open, and he has to close his eyes, because Dom Victor is back, and he can’t-

« Well? Aren’t you going to answer me? » the tone is teasing, full of the promise he might just  _ not fuck him _ if he doesn’t behave. Another tug on the collar, and Yuuri is aflame, panting worsening with every breaths pulled in and out of his lungs. 

« I-I do, I really do… »

« You really do, what? » A new tug, another wave of fire licking down Yuuri’s spine. His voice is increasingly close to sobbing when he answers : « I really want your cock, Sir. Please fuck me. »

« Such a good boy. So wonderful. » Yuuri opens his eyes, biting his lip at the praise he loves so much, and takes in Victor’s flushed face, the way his hand is twisted to grab the collar ring with two fingers now, and the other down in- oh, fuck, that’s so  _ unfair _ \- his own pants, lightly stroking his hard-on.

When he notices Yuuri staring, he chuckles and pulls the hem of the sweat down, letting his erection spring free, pink and mouth watering, already leaking at the tip. « Is this what you want? »

Yuuri has to swallow around the saliva that accumulated in his mouth at the sight. « Yes, Sir. » his voice is so faint he can barely hear himself. Victor’s smile is warm with a edge of teasing at the corner. It turns downright dirty when his next sentence comes out: « I’m going to fuck your mouth, and only after I came on your face, I will fuck your ass. How does that sounds, baby? » He tilts his head, grin turning lopsided. Yuuri is nodding even before the end of the question. 

« Yes, please,  _ yes _ . »

Victor crawls forward, up the length of Yuuri’s body until he’s half sitting on his calf over the slope of Yuuri’s chest. « Remember the codes? » he asks, voice soft and eyes bright. Yuuri nods, before letting his mouth fall open and his tongue loll out. He absolutely loves sucking Victor off, and is always very enthusiast to show the extend of that. He keens when he feels Victor’s fingers curling in the hair at the back of his head and whimpers when the tip of his cock touches his tongue. 

Closing his lips around it, he sucks lightly, tasting precome and something that is just purely  _ Victor _ , sending him into a frenzy to try and get more of the ashen blonde’s cock in his mouth. His neck cranes and twinge at the uncomfortable position, before Victor’s hand comes to pet the top of his head and a breathy chuckle came from above him. 

« Sssh, sweetheart, no need to hurry. Open up and relax that pretty throat for me. Nice and steady. » Victor’s voice is a purr, finger light in the raven locks. Yuuri moans, looking up to lock eyes with his fiancé as he opens his mouth wider, makes a show of relaxing his shoulder and opening his throat. He doesn’t miss the way Victor’s eyes slightly widen, nor the tremor that rips through him. Pale fingers grip his hair in a harder pull (A thing Victor knows he’s allowed to, it’s not the first time he fucked Yuuri’s throat raw after all) and the older skater grumbles something along the lines of « Little minx ». Yuuri wants to smile, but instead he opts for closing his eyes, trusting Victor to make him feel good as much as he takes pleasure from him. 

The slide in is slow, steady, filling Yuuri with warmth. He doesn’t even choke when the head of Victor’s cock hit the back of his throat, a feat he’s proud to have mastered rather quickly in the beginning of their sexual relationship. He moans loudly, hands twitching from where they’re resting above his head. The cuff do hurt a lot less than any neck ties, and he’s glad for the extra feeling of secureness the large strap of leather gives him. 

« Ready, babe? » Comes Victor’s voice from above him, and he opens his eyes, taking in the glorious view of Victor Nikiforov, kneeling across his chest and holding the base of his cock between his thumb and index finger, eyes dark and full of primal arousal. He nods the best he can, squaring his feet flat on the bed. 

« I won’t do anything more than you’re used to, but if it gets too much, snap your fingers of your left hand twice, do you think you can do that? »

Yuuri nods again, moving the fingers of said hand to show he understood. Victor’s cock is pulsing inside his mouth, and he can’t wait for him to start the actual pacing. Victor delivers. 

Yuuri is still wearing his glasses, and they jolt a little further down his nose with each pumps of Victor’s hips into the brunet’s mouth. Victor was right, he’s not giving Yuuri any more than the Japanese man is already used to (a good, thorough, mind blowing  _ face-fucking _ ), and Yuuri’s moans are turning high pitched. He should have known, he guesses, just from the way he loves when Victor holds his face and plunges into his throat, murmuring filth and praise both in russian and english, that he did have some sort of predisposition to submission. 

Victor is rough though, keeping Yuuri’s head still while rapidly fucking his mouth, but the hands at his ears are gentle, fingers ever so slightly caressing the shell of his ear as he gets a throatful of dicks. It should be weird, Yuuri thinks, but it just fuels his arousal, and his own cock twitches in his sweats. The collar around his neck presses against the column on his neck as he lets Victor settles a brutal pace, not choking but on the verge of promising so, a reminder of ownership and it sets Yuuri’s skin  _ aflame _ . He wants to stay like this forever, Victor’s knees pressing into his ribs and the filthy sounds of saliva and pre-come filling his ears. 

He works his throat around the sizable length of Victor (and well, Yuuri looked it up, the word size queen, after Victor dropped it one heated night as Yuuri was moaning how appreciative he was of Victor’s cock, and he can’t deny, he really can’t.) and the russian man hisses, fingers scrambling in soft black locks. « So good. » he pants, pausing in his thrusts just to circle his hips a fraction before resuming his punishing pace. « You take it so well, детка, always did, but right now, you’re j-just… » He pauses, breathing in and out through his nose to regain composure after that stutter in his voice, close his eyes for a second, and when he opens them again, they’re pinning Yuuri to the bed with so much lust he nearly chokes at that (and not even the cock currently blocking his windpipe). « You’re just so gorgeous right now. Did you know your lips are so much pinker when they’re stretched around my cock? » He breathes and Yuuri  _ whines _ , high and winded because someone, for the love of God, someone stop this man before Yuuri combusts from raw need. 

That whine seems to be Victor’s undoing because he swears softly in russia, mumbling a brief « cейчас кончу or Кончаю » before starting to pull out.

Yuuri briefly wants to grip Victor’s ass and keep him close, make him come down his throat, and his wrists jerk, jingle the chain tying him up to the bed, before he remembers Victor’s promise, and he whines again, arching his back, because he wants, he  _ wants _ , and his breath is ragged and destroyed (Oh god he’s going to be talking with a rasp tomorrow and Mila and Georgi are going to give him The Eye™ and Yuri is going to be pissed at them even though he’s too young to fully understand but old enough to have a hint.) as Victor looks down at him, jerking himself off the last couple stroke before a small moan tears itself from his mouth and a shudder runs up his spine. 

The official excuse about why Yuuri keeps his glasses when Victor comes on his face is that it protect his eyes from unfortunate accidents. The unofficial one, and thus the real one, is that they both like the look. But today Yuuri feels bold and dirty, so he sticks his tongue out, something he usually refrain to do because, that’s embarrassing to want  _ this much _ your fiancé’s come, is it not? But he does it today, whimpering as hot strings of come splatter his tongue, cheeks and glasses. He doesn’t miss the choked gasp from Victor at the sight and he can’t help but smirk around his mouthful, looking up at Victor through smudged glasses. He loses it however when his lover just smirks back at him, cupping his jaw and gently pushing his mouth closed. « Come on sweetheart, » he purrs. « Swallow for me? »

The way the order is formulated as a request makes Yuuri desperate to please, to  _ fulfill _ , and he nods eagerly, swallowing around the bitter taste, eyes never leaving Victor’s. The russian man positively glows with pride and Yuuri wants to bury himself into him for ever.

There’s fingers at the ring of his collar, and they tug, making him moan. Victor is leaning really close to him, and Yuuri wants to kiss him, hope that Victor kisses him, but Victor is murmuring into his mouth as he twist the ring and tugs some more at the collar. « All mine, » he breathes, and he does then briefly kisses Yuuri, just a loving touch of lips that Yuuri chases after. « Kitten… How did I get so lucky to have you…? »

Yuuri’s heart stutter and his breath hitches, he wants to return the question but the words get caught in his abused throat. He leans forward instead, and Victor indulges him in a longer, deeper kiss. The come still sticking to Yuuri’s face rubs a little into Victor’s skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind, especially when he cleans roughly his lover’s face in a couple of broad swipe of his tongue, pushing up and removing Yuuri’s glasses and setting them on the table by the bed. Yuuri’s legs unfurl from under his lover, curling them around his waist. « Yours, Sir » he mumbles back into Victor’s mouth as they kiss. « Always. » he adds and there’s a deep pleased rumble from Victor’s chest as he arches into Yuuri. He’s still mostly soft, but the pressure on Yuuri’s still very hard dick is welcomed with open arms and legs. He gasps, submitting to Victor by siding wide open his thighs who hums appreciatively. His voice is back to that dark dipped tone when he speaks again. « I’m going to open you up, babe, nice and slow, until you’re shaking and begging for my cock. Are you going to be a good boy for me and ask for it? » he purrs, and fuck, Yuuri’s eyes almost roll straight up to the back of his head in pleasure. « I am, I am, » he babbles, writhing under Victor’s strong frame, « I’ll be so good for you, Sir, please… » He doesn’t manage to voice the end of his sentence, as Victor is tugging his sweats down, and just the grazing of the elastic waist band is enough to make his cock leak a fat drop of precum, that Victor is quick to lick with the flat of his tongue. Yuuri bucks, the flash contact like fire on his overheated skin, and his legs kicks a little. There’s a chuckle from Victor’s vicinity and a dip of the mattress as he’s leaning toward the bedside table to retrieve the lube. 

Yuuri doesn’t see, as his eyes are closed to reign himself in, but he hears the click of the lube cap, and the squirt of the bottle. He doesn’t flinch when wet, warm fingers circle his hole, spreading instead his feet to give even more space to Victor to works with. He’s relaxed and aroused enough that the sink of one finger is painless, free of any uncomfort, and he moans a little, back arching to meet the pressure. His eyes open to slit to survey the flush of Victor’s cheek, the way blue eyes so bright they look backlit are trained on the spot fingers buries into soft, giving flesh. 

Victor is four fingers deep into Yuuri when he raises his voice again, even though Yuuri is barely cognizant enough to understand him. He’s been fingering him for what feels like hours, slow as he promised as he works open his smaller lover, spreading and scissoring his fingers and just barely brushing the spot that makes Yuuri lit up in gasps and starry eyed pleasure. Yuuri is on  _ this side _ of too much, his legs are twitching, his stomach is a slick sticky mess of precum and his hips can’t keep still. Victor is dangling orgasm right out of his reach, he can’t reach down to touch himself (and even if he could, he knows Victor would just bats his hand away from his weeping cock), and he curses the fact he can’t come from just fingers, not anymore. (Could before, when sex was new and almost overwhelming, now he still can come untouched but only from Victor’s fat and delicious cock, pounding into him hard and fast and fff-fuck, can the russian man just get on with it and  _ fuck him _ already?)

He feels delirious, mouth and throat dry around the pants he can’t control anymore.

« Didn’t you say you’d be a good boy and would beg, baby boy ? » 

The new nickname makes Yuuri’s cheeks burn and his whole body jerk. The noise that comes out from his mouth is enough to make Victor pause, eyeing him in worry. While he did prepare Yuuri before for long period of times just to tease, he never did to that extend and the way the brunet’s jaws is working but no sounds is coming out is enough to make him check in. He stops his motion but doesn’t pull out his fingers, even though as he’s leaning forward to hover above his fiancé.

« Darling? Your remember your safewords? » he asks softly, eyes searching. Yuuri nods, hips pushing back on Victor’s fingers in protest for the lack of friction. 

« Good, » he slurs, gulping to hydrate his throat enough to speak. « I’m good, green. K-keep going, p-please. » He struggles to open his eyes enough to look at Victor, but when he manages to do so, he wants to close them again, because Victor is just  _ so beautiful _ above him like that, eyes full of attention even though his cheeks, neck and chest is flushed with arousal. His cock is standing once again at attention, still wet from Yuuri’s mouth and so red at the head it must be painful. His dom had been so good, restraining himself like this just to give him what he wanted. He remember his promise and he wriggles a little, trying to entice Victor. « Please, Sir, you promised you’d fuck me with your cock, please… »

Victor’s face paints itself with relief before quickly letting place to smug arousal. « Come on, baby, I know you can do better than that. »

« Oh God, Sir, please! Please give me your cock! » He gasps, then gasps once more when he feels Victor’s hands curls around his ankles and lift his legs to rest the back of his knee on his shoulder. His hips are next, lifted from the mattress with strong hands and he initially scrambles for purchase and balance. The position is challenging but he trust his core enough to be able to hold it long enough. He looks down at where Victor is kneeling between his legs, using one hand to line himself up and tease some more, rubbing the head of his cock against Yuuri’s taint. 

« So demanding, Yuu~ri » drawls Victor, dragging the U in Yuuri’s name. « But I love you so much I can’t resist you and give you everything you want. Especially when it’s my cock. »

Yuuri half wants to bite a snark back, but the words fails him, (partly because Victor’s right, Yuuri do love that cock.) and all he can do is let his mouth drop open as he feels the slow press (why slow, why still  _ so slow _ , Victor you absolute bastard) of Victor’s dick inside him. It feels like water in the desert and he keens, tensing all over at the jabs of pleasure sparking through him. Victor grunts at the resulting tightening of Yuuri’s ass, hands tight at his hips. Yuuri can see his jaw working, teeth gritting together in a attempt to keep his composure and his role intact. And Yuuri can’t resist, he clenches around the length inside him, and Victor nearly buckles, eyes crunching closed and gasp loud in the bedroom. When he opens them again, shooting a look at Yuuri sprawled under him, he chuckles and one of his hands leaves his lover’s hip to land a resounding slap to his left cheek.

« Naughty boy. » he purrs and Yuuri squirms, trying to keep the smile to blossom on his lips. He’s turned on beyond measure, at Victor’s mercy, tied up, collared, calling him Sir, he just got his ass slapped in punition and he’s starting to realize how much he’s actually on the other end of a scale which is healthily balanced to be  _ even _ . He might be the one submitting, but Victor takes as much as Yuuri is willing to give him, and gives back only the amount the japanese man is willing to take. This might be power in play, yes, but never in question was the idea of Victor seeing him as less than equal, even in this particular situation.

He also starting to realizes  _ how much he’s actually loving this _ , how safe and loved and happy he feels, and it makes him want to push back to see Victor’s limits, see if he can make him break and give him his all. So he squeezes around Victor’s dick once more, unable to stop the giggle escaping him this time.

His cheekiness is not lost on Victor, who stares for a couple of seconds, mouth falling open around a wheezing moan. « You little… » he mumbles, but the tone of his voice is playful in its edge, and Yuuri isn’t worried. « Is that really a way to behave, pet? » Growls Victor, hand suddenly at Yuuri’s neck, fingers looping again around the ring sitting on the hollow of Yuuri’s throat and  _ tugging _ , harder than before. It’s Yuuri’s turn to wheeze, more in arousal than loss of air. The hard line of Victor’s cock, still buried inside him, makes it hard to think.

« Should I really take the leash out? » hums Victor, and Yuuri freezes. There’s a leash in the box? Did he miss it? The implication of what he said earlier tonight isn’t lost on him and he whines, both in want and protest. He shakes his head, biting his lip (and watching the flicker of blue eyes on his mouth), « No, please Sir, I’m sorry, right now, I just… »

He arches his hips a little and there’s a burst of pleasure that nearly blinds him. « I just, please, fuck me? I-I’ll be good, I promised I will. »

There’s another slap at his buttocks and this time his moans is a lot more louder, nearly a shout.

« I’ll let this slide just this time, kitten. Just because it’s you. But I really ought to give you a nice thorough spanking if you do misbehave again. » Another slap, a bit harder than the previous two and Yuuri’s entire body jerks up with the blow. He’s familiar with a couple slap as Victor’s fucking him, but this is a lot heavier. Dirtier. His breath scatters and his voice is winded as he squeaks: « Please, oh please! »

There’s something dark and full of promises that passes onto Victor’s face, and he chooses this exact moment to pull back and thrust back full force into Yuuri, who, this time, screams.

« Yuuri. » Breathes Victor, voice so full of wonder and pure  _ adoration _ it sets Yuuri’s skin ablaze and he cries back « Victor! » as Victor finally, finally,  _ thank God _ , starts fucking him. Neither mention how he failed to call Victor the proper title for their session, and frankly, he can’t care less now. The collar is tight around his neck as he throws his head back, and his shoulders are starting to strain because of the position, he knows his whole body is going to be sore tomorrow, practice be damned, and he loves every single 

seconds of it.

_ The neighbors aren’t going to be happy _ is a thought that does passes by as his screams climbs a couple pitch when Victor folds him in two, knees pressed to his clavicle, and fucks him at a pace he doesn’t think he ever reached before. Victor’s palms are searing hot where they’re pressed to the tender skin of the back of his thighs, and his cock is punching white sparks of pleasure from deep inside Yuuri’s hips all the way up to the back of his neck. The wood floorboards are probably going to be scratched, too, from the way the bed is shaking. Yuuri is struggling to try and grab some purchase on the headboard with his fingers, as bound as he is, anything to anchor himself as Victor fucks him like there’s no tomorrow. Keeping his eyes open is the worst struggle, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t watch his fiancé’s face as he unravels above him. 

Sure enough, Victor’s fair face is nearly scarlet, sweat dripping from his temple with exertion, but his eyes are so very blue and so very bright, wide open and pinned on Yuuri, drinking him in like he’s the most beautiful of angels. Which, in Victor’s opinion any given day, he is.

« Darling, » he exhales, a rough stretch of gravelly voice, « You look so stunning like this. » His right hand reaches for the collar again, but the tugs are gentler now, more of a reminder than anything else. Still, the way his hand curls around the metal and the ball of his palm rest against the top of Yuuri’s sternum is like a brand, a whisper of  _ mine, mine, mine _ , and Yuuri embraces it, arches into it. 

« Maybe I should untie you, » continues Victor, hips not slowing one bit, « I’m rather fond of the scratches you leave on my back when I fuck you deep like this, just how you love. You love it, don’t you? Being fucked hard and fast into the mattress. You love feeling my cock inside you, fucking you open and making you scream. »

« Love it, » Yuuri slurs, this time unable to keep his eyes open. He spreads his legs the best he can, knees close to his ears now, and tilt his hips, changing the angle of Victor’s thrust  _ just so _ , and there’s a strangled high pitched whimper before he forces out, « Love it so much, S-Sir, love your big cock, love you, I love you…! »

Delight dances in Victor’s eyes as he chuckles (though it sounds strained and hot and as if he’s grasping at the frayed edges of his control). « I really think I should untie you. Just so I can brag when I change in the lockers, you should see how the other skaters look at my back when they think I’m not looking… »

This is new, Yuuri never heard of this, and the idea of Victor flaunting his sex escapades marks in the locker for everyone to see is so embarrassing and so stupidly hot his eyes nearly cross at the contradiction. He doesn’t have much more time to think about it because Victor is indeed reaching for the cuffs above Yuuri’s head and he jerks his hands back the best he can. « No! No, please, leave them, I like… » a couple gulps, and a handful of pants, « I like them, I-I want to come like this. Please, Sir. » He looks up pleadingly at Victor, who swears lowly in russian before leaning forward to kiss Yuuri. It’s messy and there’s saliva everywhere, making their chin slick with it. Victor bites at Yuuri’s lower lip as he pulls back, and Yuuri whines. Victor is still fucking him as hard as before, and there’s the tell tale of building in the pit of his belly. 

« Sir, I’m close, I’m so close, please… »

« Anything, anything for you baby, Yuuri, love, my love, I’m going to make you come so hard, I’ll make you feel so good…. »

« You already do, » Yuuri gasps as his back bows, taking Victor’s cock even deeper. « So good, you’re so good to me, Sir, please, I’m nearly…! »

Both of Victor’s hands return to the back of Yuuri’s knees, pushing down the extra couple inches, and Yuuri  _ swears _ he can feel the head of his lover’s cock hit the inside of his belly. « Screams for me, darling, » grins Victor through the sweat on his face and his own rough breaths, and Yuuri does, because there’s nothing he can refuse to Victor. 

When he finally comes, he actually wonders if he’s not dying. Everything turns white then grey at the edges and there’s fuzzy black dots dancing in front of his eyes. The orgasm is earth shattering, mind splitting. His mouth falls open on a silent scream, voice broken and unable to get out anymore, head thrown back on the pillows and arms so tense his elbows probably popped. He mouthes Victor’s name in a futile attempt to tell him he’s coming, as if Victor isn’t already appraising the thick white strings of cum coating Yuuri’s stomach, shooting so hard it actually reaches his collarbones. (And there’s nothing, nothing Victor loves more than making Yuuri come untouched, the inside of his chest glowing with pride every time.)

When Yuuri comes back down, Victor stopped moving, but is still hard inside him, looking at him intently to check if everything is okay. Yuuri wriggles a little, moaning softly, (God, okay, there goes his voice.) trying to entice Victor. « Keep going… Come inside… Please? Sir? For me? » he begs, and Victor shudders so violently his whole frame shakes with it. He resumes his pacing, slower than before, and Yuuri keens, whines, he wants it faster, even though his skin is alight with oversensitivity. 

« Fuck, Yuuri… » Victor grumbles, before picking up the pace, head bowed. 

« Fuck me until you come. » Yuuri nearly chews on his own words, almost unable to form them altogether. He feels out of his own head, looking down at Victor who’s back to fucking him in earnest, focused on his own pleasure now that Yuuri’s satisfied. He’s so gorgeous like this, all sweat, pink skin and matted silver hair. He fucks Yuuri until he tenses, presses his dick as far as it can go and he moans, high and breathy from the back of his throat. Yuuri’s still looking at him and he so wants to kiss him right now. Instead he just licks his lips, appreciating the hot wet rush of Victor’s come inside him. 

He hears Victor swears again through the buzzing in his ear, and his eyelids are suddenly very heavy. He feels slipping, and there’s Victor’s voice, tinted with worry, calling his name. « I’m good, » he mumbles, but it might just get out as « mnhood » for all he knows. He feels Victor reaching above his head, and the soft tone of his voice near his forehead. « I’m going to untie you, alright? » He nods, and sighs when his wrists are set free, Victor’s hands curled around his as he lower slowly Yuuri’s arms back to his chest. There’s a jingle of metal, and the padded cuffs slips from around his wrists, carefully removed and lowered to the bed next to them. They’re soon replaced by Victor’s warm (albeit sweaty) palms, moving gently so Yuuri would bend his elbows  and rest his hands just under his clavicles. « Just a sec’, sweetheart. » murmurs Victor, sliding his hands at the back of his lover’s neck and sliding the collar around so he would get a better access to the buckle. Once the collar is also off and on the bed, he gently probes at the skin to check for any damage. There’s a reddish line streaked across the pale expense of Yuuri’s neck, but otherwise he’s fine. 

« How are you feeling? » he asks, voice soft and loving. Yuuri, on his part, is feeling much more aware, the initial veil of afterglow lifting off slowly. « I’m good. » he replies, though his words are still a little slurred. « Great, actually. Relaxed. » Victor chuckles. « That’s great, baby, here, can you sit up? » 

Yuuri does, with a wince, and Victor’s hands on his back to help him. The russian plumps some pillows so his fiancé can lean back, and once he’s comfortably seated, he draws back to look at him. « I’m going to get some water and something to clean up, are you going to be okay? » Satisfied with Yuuri’s answering nod, he gets up, and Yuuri takes a second to admire his fiancé’s bare ass as he pads to the bathroom. Not a minute later, he comes back with a glass of water and a wet cloth. 

« Here, drink, sweetheart. » he hums, holding the glass to Yuuri’s lips, for which Yuuri’s thankful, his arms are as useful as cooked noodles right now. He gulps gratefully the cool water, soothing his raw throat and refreshing his head. « There you go, a little more. » comes Victor’s voice from his right and there’s a thumb rubbing at his chin when some excess water runs down past the corner of his lips. Yuuri manages to smile to his fiancé, who smiles back, setting the glass on the bedside table. « Good, let’s get you cleaned up and wrapped up cozy and warm in bed. »

Yuuri lets Victor dots on him, rubbing the warm wet cloth on his abs, chest and face, quickly leaning forward to kiss him on the nose, making him giggle. He takes a few minutes to clean himself up, too, before ducking back in the bathroom to drop the cloth in the sink. When he comes back, he helps Yuuri to lie down, and wraps him up in a spare blanket. « Here, darling, » he coos, « How are you feeling? Still good? » 

Yuuri nods, starting to feeling drowsy. « ‘M sleepy, » he admits, settling down and feeling like he’s sinking into the plush mattress. 

« We’re going to sleep in a minute, love, I want you to have a bite first. » replies Victor, standing again to start for the kitchen. At some point, he put his underwear back on, which is a tragedy in Yuuri’s opinion, and Yuuri’s left to watch the roll of those glorious muscles under that tight dark fabric as the russian man gets out of the room. 

« Is that really necessary? » Yuuri calls from the bed, and wince at how his voice sounds, despite the water. « I feel okay, you know. »

« I know, » comes back the reply from the other side of the door. « But you used quite a bit of energy, and I’d rather have you snack on something before sleep, baby, that’s all. »

Yuuri doesn’t argue, just buries a bit more under the blanket. « I want you here. » he (doesn’t whine, he refuses to think he whined that) mumbles. Immediately, Victor is back at his side, as if he rushed running from the kitchen as those words. He climbs on the bed, a fruit energy bar in hand and another glass of water, presumably for him. « I know baby, I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I should have kept those near before we started. I just didn’t… » He deflates a little, looking guilty. « I didn’t think we’d go this far tonight. I didn’t push you into anything, did I? I got… I feel like I got greedy. »

« Victor, » Yuuri can’t help but shake his head and huff affectionately. « Of course you didn’t. I wanted this. I- » he pauses, weighting what he’s about to say, and there’s a rush of excitement in the pit of his stomach, as tired as he is. « I loved it. I want to do more. I want to try more. » he says softly, and the way Victor’s whole face lights up is so bright and open and happy he aches inside with devotion and love. 

« Baby… » Victor breathes, « Oh милый, I am so  _ blessed _ , I don’t deserve you. » He leans forward, nuzzling into Yuuri, who just chuckles and nuzzles back. « That’s my line. » he murmurs and Victor grins at him, before setting the full glass on the table on his side of the bed and opening the snack package. « Here love, just a couple bites, okay? For me? »

Yuuri can’t resist, can’t lie and say he doesn’t like the pampering. He opens his mouth and lets Victor feeds him slowly. He ends up eating the whole thing, surprised he’s actually more hungry than usual after sex. Victor glows with pride and affection, letting Yuuri chew at his own pace while he drinks some water from his glass, no doubt soothing his own parched throat after so much panting. He makes Yuuri drinks a bit more after that, going up to refill the glass and promising next time they’ll have a bottle of water next to the bed so he doesn’t have to move around so much. 

Later, when all glasses are drained, that the lights are off, and they’re both under the covers, Victor is cuddling Yuuri to his chest, petting his side in long, light strokes. Yuuri’s body slots itself wonderfully into Victor’s, their size difference making it perfect. Not for the first time, Yuuri is a little overwhelmed with the idea that they were made for each other, cheeks flushing at the entertaining thought that they might have met before in a previous life. He likes it, even if he would never admit such a thing to Victor, because, okay, if being desperate for your fiancé’s come is somewhat embarrassing, thinking you’re soulmates through the ages is  _ definitively _ way more. 

Victor interrupts his train of thoughts with a gentle sigh and a happy coo.

« You were so wonderful, baby. So good. I love you, you know that? » He’s rumbling into Yuuri’s neck, who’s starting to feel sleep slowly start to claim him.

« I know. » he mumbles, grasping at the last shreds of his consciousness to answer. « I love you too. » he adds, sighing happily and pressing back into Victor, who hums and moves his arm so he’s holding Yuuri by the waist. 

« Next day off, » Yuuri says, smiling in the dark, « I want you to hold onto that promise to spank me. » His smile grows larger as he hears Victor’s hitch of breath, before a chuckle follows.

« So demanding, my love. Let’s see if I can do something about that. » and his voice is dark roses, honey and promises, and Yuuri falls asleep with the press of Victor’s lips against the nape of his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me as well on Oxytreza.tumblr and Oxytrezart.tumblr :D


End file.
